3 L’Impératrice Pour Femme 

3 L’Impératrice Pour Femme (D&G 2009) is pink and very fruity and sweet.  It’s a pretty scent.  The watermelon note is fun and bright, and the pink pepper saves the kiwi from becoming nauseating…  Jasmine is also lovely in this one.  And it’s a nice fragrance I’d enjoy wearing sparingly along with something more serious and powdery.  
Top notes: rhubarb, pink pepper and kiwi.  Middle notes:cyclamen, watermelon and  jasmine.  Base notes: lemon tree, musk and sandalwood.  

Ombré Rose

Perhaps it’s the elegant use of rose and aldehydes but, Ombré Rose (Jean-Charles Brosseau 1981) reminds me quite a lot of Chanel No. 22 at the start. Then, a woody, vanillic, smoky warmth emerges that sizzles gorgeously without regard and yet with a lot of powdery whimsy. This is a definite rose scent but the accompanying sandalwood, vetiver, rosewood, lily-of-the-valley and really all the masterfully blended notes are far from out-shadowed. 
Top notes: Brazilian rosewood, peach, geranium, and aldehydes.   Middle notes: sandalwood, orris root, vetiver, ylang ylang, lily-of-the-valley, cedar and rose.  Base notes: honey, iris, tonka bean, cinnamon, musk, vanilla, and heliotrope. 

Nose: Françoise Caron 

No. 4 

No. 4 (Jil Sander 1990) has a very warm, heady start.  It’s a gorgeous oriental with particularly notable air anise and geranium that eventually mixes with nutmeg and myrrh to create spicy opulence.  And, of course, being a late 80’s/early 90’s fragrance the florals are bold and beautiful.   It’s perfect for a colder day as it sort of resembles mulled wine at times, but on a warmer day when the scent can fully bloom (especially the musk, patchouli and sandalwood), No. 4 is truly breathtaking and memorable. 

Caron Pour Un Homme Les Plus Belles Lavandes 


Caron Pour Un Homme Les Plus Belles Lavandes (Caron unknown) is a gorgeous, manly vintage of sweet, authentic lavender at the start. Then it’s leathery, musty musk and smoky elegance. It envelopes like old, vanillic pipe tobacco mixed with chilled fresh air. This is one of those exquisite classics I wish more men would seek out and wear… It might seem that a tobacco laden vanilla and lavender wouldn’t be “manly enough” but it’s quite the opposite…


So, it seems that my romance with the man I called Handsome and then eventually Mr. Blue has ended…  Seemingly.

I’m happily at peace right now for two reasons.  First, I firmly believe that no man should be cried over for too long.  Period.  You see, if something doesn’t work out it’s either for something better to come along or it isn’t the end (as corny as that sounds) and eventually there will be an answer.  Of course, there might be some tragedy involved but I’ve come to believe that nothing rests and festers for eternity.   There is always some sort of resolution.    God is too just for that.  I have faith that God is too majestic and knowing to be so disillusioned with us…

My other reason involves well…  other men – men from my distant past and men I currently favor.   One man in particular, who is very manly in particular, is quite a lovely distraction.  However, I like to think I’m still fairly chaste and careful (more on that in a second).  My divorce is far from final and Mark still would like things to work out between us, although I don’t see that being likely, sadly.

I do wonder sometimes though why no one tries harder to demand my full attention.   Perhaps they’re unsure about their feelings?    I don’t know…    But at any rate, the one man I have the deepest feelings for right now gave the impression tonight that he was experiencing a bit of jealousy.

To be honest, I adored the jealousy.  The way he handled it was hurtful.  But the fact that he felt it was tantalizing and gorgeous.  Yes.  Tantalizing and gorgeous.

Jealousy is a lovely emotion coming from a man who wants you and can be faithful.   Well, as long as it is expressed as passion and intensity and not…  cruelty.   Or, at least, as long as they eventually fess up and express their wild desire it’s delectable.

I did feel horrible for him though.  I really did.  But little does he know how wonderfully confusing and hidden away I am?  

I give very, indeed precious little, of myself away.  It takes years to find your way inside my heart.   I’m truly a very careful person by nature.  I’m very…  hidden.  It’s complicated.  Yet if I love someone, no matter how difficult the situation, it lasts…  

And on that note, only recently I’ve come to truly suspect that reincarnation is extremely likely.  I am a devout Christian, but I don’t know that we aren’t reincarnated at least…  sometimes.   And I suspect I may have been.  Yes, that might sound a bit flaky to my more conservative followers but for many years I’ve had memories and known things that it didn’t make sense to know or have.  And I’ve come to realize that I’ve even written stories based on the life I may have lived.  It’s a rather odd way that I figured it out, but I believe I may know who I was.   All that to say that I am indeed hidden…  Very lost to time.   Matter of fact, the lovers I had long ago still haunt my heart it sometimes seems…    

I suspect I know the sort of man I fell for passionately long ago and it makes sense why I have never found anyone like him since then.   (And no – for my more astute followers – I don’t suspect I’m Zelda Fitzgerald although given my adoration for F. Scott Fitzgerald and other Lost Generation authors I could see thinking that instantly upon reading my last sentence.).  And, intriguingly to me at least, the gentleman I have the strongest feelings for right now may have “a very old history” with me too.   

Reincarnation is fascinating.   Truly.   However, for me, it’s very new to potentially think of it as a practical concept and consideration in everyday life.  I’m still working out how it all fits… 

I suspect I was in England in my last life (if they exist).  Surprise, surprise…  I know.  It’s so obvious it hurts…  I’m still passionately in love with England.

And the gentleman I prefer as of late –  I’ll call him Mr. Bright because he needs a name (as cheesy as that is) – Mr. Bright might have been in England too.   As I said, I think we at least fancied each other a lot…   But we didn’t become a serious item I don’t suspect.  I question why.

Anyway, it’s entirely possible none of these gentleman will seriously pursue.  More than possible I suppose…  Matter of fact, I expect it.   And for the very nosy reader, I haven’t actually even kissed any of them yet.  We’ve offered our feelings to each other on things, but that’s different than spending good time with someone and making it “real.”   

As much as people don’t seem to value reality these days, I’m afraid I still do.   I love it.  I love reality.   I love the way things used to be so solid and tangible and meaningful as they still could and should be.  It’s the way we were created to live:  deeply, beautifully connected.

However, I do have something to consider finally with some seriousness.  Do I date older men?  I suspect my rule will shift about based on the individual because it really does seem to matter based on the person…

Mr. Bright is older.  But I adore him for it.  The creases in his face are incredibly attractive…  and I can’t say that about every man who has…  creases.  I think it’s likely just him and his personality.  Those wrinkles merely reflect who he is or…  might be.  They’re like beams of light that accentuate the facets of his personality come into vision on his rather perfect face.   

Mr Bright is a very good looking man and age has done him favors and in no small part because he gives the impression that he’s unaware of that fact.  Entirely.  Matter of fact, his beautiful lack of conceit leaves me questioning often if he’ll decide to never pursue me because he’s worried some might think I’m a bit young for him or if he’ll avoid making himself clear in his feelings because he’s worried he’s just an old wrinkled man…  And, of course, he is wrinkled, but…  I think his wrinkles are like freckles.  On the right face they can be utterly charming…   Again, he has a wonderful face.

But I suppose I’m too daring about such things.  If something isn’t immoral I tend to leap…   I am a person who likes to take well calculated risks.   They engage my interest because in order to move forward you sometimes have push beyond and break something.  The trick seems to be finding the right sort of thing to break…

I just hope some man realizes someday how much I care and how warm I actually am beyond just being polite (and possibly chatty) despite what they often seem to suspect.  Or, I hope I realize how little men care even though they pretend to be vulnerable (in respect to me) to manipulate me?   One or the other seems to be the case.

Either way, I’m falling for a man…   Not a boy.  Or a guy…   I hope.   And in the best case, that’s the trouble.   Am I a 33 year old who is enough of a grown lady for a true man?  Again, I hope… 




Antilope (Weil 1946) opens with Neroli and aldehydes. And then there’s this intoxicating, soft, lush herbal rose. It’s a rose accompanied by gentle florals like violet, and a misty jasmine, and carnation. There’s spicy patchouli, a sandalwood warmth, airy oakmoss and a tender clary sage. Sweet, almost sugary musk, tonka bean and amber are reminiscent of the olfactory delight from a savory dish right out of the oven in the American Deep South. But, all these sensuous, powdery and rather rambunctious notes are kept respectable by the iris, rose and vetiver.  
Top notes: neroli, bergamot and aldehydes.  Middle notes:  clary sage, rose, lily of the valley, jasmine, carnation, iris and violet.  Base notes:  sandalwood, vetiver, patchouli, tonka, amber, oak moss and musk.



Parure (Guerlain 1975) is denseand tumultuous green florals laced with bergamot meet a spicy purple plum. A glamorous rose and jasmine mix with sleek iris and the grounding, enduring oakmoss is heroic. Pretty, stoic amber finds thoughtful but aggressive patchouli, especially into the drydown. This is a heady but still springlike scent. Very romantic and very lovely.

Top notes: plum, fruity notes, green notes, bergamot and citruses.   Middle notes: orris root, narcissus, lilac, jasmine, lily-of-the-valley, and rose.  Base notes: oakmoss, patchouli, amber, leather, and spices.

Nose: Jean-Paul Guerlain

Fleurs de Rocaille 

In vintage Fleurs de Rocaille (Caron (1934) the spicy and earthy lily-of-the-valley is certainly unusual… but Fleur de Rocaille manages it brilliantly. And in fact while most people smell a wild and lovely jasmine as the main floral note I detect a strong lily. Carnation, rose and ylang ylang are also notable. There are aldehydes, of course, and the other soapy, sweet florals and base notes with a particularly pretty sandalwood and amber. This fizzy, sexy, and unique fragrance is defiantly memorable.

Nose: Ernest Daltroff

Top notes: palisander, bergamot, gardenia and violet.   Middle notes: orris root, jasmine, narcissus, rose, carnation, lily-of-the-valley, ylang-ylang, lilac, mimosa and iris.  Base notes: amber, sandalwood, musk and cedar. 


Calèche (Hermès 1961) opens with one of the most beautiful orange blossom arrangements I’ve ever encountered. The perfect woody citrus, neroli and aldehydes compliment the orange blossom to an almost tragically lovely degree – like a singularly pretty spring day. Into the drydown an herbal floral combination is prim but soothing and engaging. Intriguingly, on my skin the vintage oakmoss, vetiver, musk and cedar create a nearly spicy, animalic accord. And into the later drydown the lemon reemerges as a soft, powdery delight. This beauty is wild and free.

Nose: Guy Robert

Top notes: aldehydes, lemon, lime, mandarin orange, neroli, orange blossom and cypress.  Middle notes: ylang-ylang, rose, lily-of-the-valley, gardenia, iris and jasmine.  Base notes: cedar, oakmoss, vetiver, musk, amber, tonka bean and sandalwood.